


Purposeful Intent

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, mutual oral, self-suck, tandem dick sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 21:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15422349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Jon's wanted to try something for a while and now seems like the best possible time to try it out.





	Purposeful Intent

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't get it out of my head. Also, first time doing a Google Doc public write! It was fun. I should do it again. (Let me know in comments if you'd like to know/be invited next time I do.)  
> Beta: kate1zena

It wasn’t often Jon was this reckless. If he was being completely honest, he was _never_ like this, but something about today just had him thinking it would be fun to do something Damian would _never_ suspect of him. It took hours for his plan to come to fruition – three hours of WoC and another hour of a pizza dinner in Damian’s room, to be exact. Even then, it was only with Bruce’s insistence that Damian come down and talk to him about one of their cases that enabled Jon to act.

He listened until he was sure Damian couldn’t hear him, then he crawled onto Damian’s bed and struggled to get out of his t-shirt. Tossing it to the floor, he leaned back against the wall and paused, listening hard to ensure his own father wasn’t anywhere near the manor because he was the _absolute last_ person he wanted to be interrupted by. 

Closing his eyes, he let his hands drift down over his abdomen and come to rest on the already prominent bulge of his cock. Biting his lip, he felt the excited little skitter in his veins that told him he was intentionally being a _bad_ boy. He wet his lips and hastily unfastened his belt and jeans. Shucking both his jeans and briefs down, he kicked them off and then squirmed around on the bed until he had enough room for what he truly wanted to try to do.

Glancing around the room, he let his eyes come to rest on Damian’s prized art piece, _Study of a Male Nude_ by Theodore Gericault. Jon had, of course, teased Damian relentlessly when he’d first purchased the print, when he'd seen it hung up on the far wall. Now that he was settled in Damian’s bed, he sort of understood. Damian had purchased it two years before he’d come out to his family and it would have been an incredibly convenient way to see something exciting while he was, well, doing exactly what Jon was now. 

Biting back a giddy sort of laugh, Jon eased himself back on the bed and turned his head to stare at the painting. The lines of the man’s figure, the delicacy of every brushstroke and the care that had clearly gone into the piece. He closed his eyes and imagined the _one_ time he’d convinced Damian to go far enough they’d seen one another instead of simply groping at one another through clothing. Damian’s flushed chest, the quickness of his breath, the gasping little pants he’d made as Jon teased him. His cock throbbed, iron and velvet in his hand and he had to struggle not to ramp himself up too far, too fast and lose control of this entire situation.

Wetting his lips, he shifted again and carefully blew out his breath, leaning into the stretches Damian had showed him months ago when he’d claimed he needed to stretch more before patrol. Damian had shown him an entire routine that Dick had provided and a large part of it had been incredibly useful for _this_ particular endeavor in Jon’s life. 

Still keeping himself excited, he drew one leg in and extended the other out to the side and then leaned into the stretch. He held it for a while and then switched to the other side. Resting back on his hands, he arched, flexing his cock a few times and then set himself determinedly after his task. Breathing out, he sank down over himself, pushed both feet together and pushed down on his knees as he leaned in closer and closer to his target. 

With a little sigh, he managed to get the rest of the air out of his diaphragm and stuck his tongue out, swiping it over the head of his cock. It wasn’t much, wasn’t everything he had daydreamed about when he’d first set out to suck his own cock, but it was exciting nonetheless. He’d never had a tongue or a mouth or anything on his own length and the feeling of it was nothing short of _incredible_. He lapped eagerly at the precum that beaded up and nearly forgot that he wasn’t supposed to be wanting to cum yet. His body strained and he released little panting half-breaths in his desperate desire to _have_ what lay so close to him.

He heard the floorboard outside the door creak and he shuddered involuntarily, flicking his tongue back out and swirling it around the head of his cock just as the door opened.

Despite the quiet way Damian stepped into the room, Jon could hear the way his heart began to pound in his chest. Damian would have said it was _very un-bat-like_ and Jon would have probably snorted at him. As it was, neither said a word and Jon simply slid his tongue out again, giving the head of his cock a lazy lap as he raised his eyes to watch Damian’s reaction.

It wasn’t an easy position by any means, nor was it truly comfortable, but arousal was a hell of a motivator and really, how much more aroused could he get than tasting his own cock?

There was one answer – one _glaring_ answer – and it was so obvious he ached with it. 

_Damian_.

Anything to do with him. Him getting off on watching Jon. His mouth around his cock. His hand around his own. It didn’t truly matter to Jon what was being done so long as it was something. 

Gathering the next bead of precum on his tongue, he sat up a little to give his back a rest and studied Damian’s form. He’d come to stand just below his painting, his arms crossed, his body half hidden in the shadows, and Jon _knew_ what he was hiding. It was so very obvious from the frantic staccato of Damian’s pulse, the way his blood rushed through his veins. There was no trickery here. 

“You’re doing it wrong.”

 _That_ he hadn’t expected. “Uh… what?” He felt like his mind had short-circuited. Doing _what_ wrong, exactly? Not to mention how could Damian still manage to be so incredibly condescending at a time like this?

Damian sighed, shifting away from the wall and plucking his phone out of his pocket. He crossed the room and settled on the bed inches from Jon’s knee. After a few clicks and a moment of waiting, Damian handed over the phone and Jon accepted it. He rested his forearms on his thighs and watched the video load, already certain Damian was _definitely_ showing him porn just by the name of the site.

The video turned on and Jon watched in fascination as the guy on screen squirmed around on his bed and shoved pillows up, around and under himself before basically positioning himself so his shoulder blades were against the wall and he was upside down. He slowly lowered himself until his toes touched the bed behind his head. Jon made a face and heard Damian's held-back chuckle. A few seconds more, and then the guy was lowering himself even more, his breathing shallow and his hands coming to pull down on his upper thighs. His mouth opened and his cock slid past his lips, the first few inches disappearing into the guy’s mouth. Jon’s cock throbbed in desperation, his mind riddled with the desire to do exactly this, and his next breath was shaky. His hands trembled as he passed the phone back to Damian and held nothing back as he maneuvered himself into position at super-speed. 

Damian pulled his leg up on the bed, resting his phone on his thigh. Jon could feel his gaze like the heat of the sun on his skin, feel it as if Damian were his own personal Kryptonite. His breath shuddered and he had to focus to push it out, to pull down on his own thighs enough to accomplish this task. He sank lower into the position, felt his cock graze his lips, and he panted harshly against it, feeling as though he were harder than he’d ever been before. His tongue slid out, bathing his cock in saliva before he pushed his head up and slid his lips around his own length. _Everything_ in him screamed that this was the best damn thing in the entire world, that nothing would ever feel this good again, and he couldn’t hear past the rushing in his own ears for one relieving moment. With much effort, he bobbed his head and gave the head of his prick a good hard suck before teasing the slit with his tongue.

He heard the bed springs shift, then the sound of Damian’s zipper and it was only this single thing that pulled his cock from his mouth and let him loll his head back enough to watch Damian as he pulled his cock free of his pants. Their eyes met briefly and he saw the flash of desire there an instant before Damian was _right there_ , leaning in and claiming his mouth for a brutal sort of kiss that surely would have bruised someone else’s lips. There was a rampaging desire that Damian normally never showed and Jon craved it the way a drowning man would desire water. 

Damian’s hand tugged at his hair, pulled and then released only to grasp an entire handful and hold tight. “Tell me you want it.”

Jon’s eyes lit up and he felt his entire being was on fire. “Yes.” It didn’t matter what _it_ was, only that Damian wanted to give something to him. It could have been anything and he would have been joyous to have accepted it. 

The fact that _it_ was, in fact, Damian’s mouth working along the side of his cock left Jon gasping and feeling like he was going to shoot at any second. He trembled with the force of his own desire, arched and _whined_ , only for Damian to mutter against the side of his cock, “Get back to sucking it.”

Shivering with the force of the words, Jon forced his breathing to even out, his muscles to stop straining, and sank back down into the pose, his toes on the bed, his cock against his lips, and this time it was the pressure of Damian’s hand that pushed his cock between his lips, that left him sucking diligently on his own length. 

Damian’s mouth worked up the side of his cock, his tongue swiping a blazing hot path and his lips following behind it. He licked and kissed at the part Jon couldn’t get into his own mouth, gave him a pleasure unlike any other he’d ever experienced, and it was only with a little surprise he felt the first thick spurt of his cum hit the back of his own throat. 

Desperate, greedy, he sucked at his own length until Damian’s hand in his hair yanked him back and Damian’s mouth slid over him in place of his own, taking the last hot pulses of his orgasm into his own mouth.

The instant Damian pulled off of him and let go of his thigh, Jon was moving, turning and reaching for Damian, feeling half-crazed with his desire to _obtain_.

Jon watched Damian’s expression soften, watched the way his entire body yielded to Jon’s touch. _Yes_ was written in every aspect of his being, but that didn’t stop Jon from pausing, both hands on Damian’s briefs, the elastic pulling against his fingers, Damian’s warm skin pressed to his knuckles. “I want to…”

Damian’s hand was gentle in his hair this time, a light pressure downwards and Jon moaned at the permission, at the _want_ that had to lay so clearly within Damian’s mind and body to allow him this. His breath trembled and his hands shook and the instant he got his mouth around Damian, he felt like Heaven had descended and enveloped him in the best kind of warmth.

Damian’s cock glided over his tongue and Jon took him to the very hilt, buried his nose in his pubic hair and moaned. Over him, Damian strained, his grip tightening, and Jon understood then what a fragile grip Damian had on his control. He listened to his heart beating out of control, to the unsteady sound of his breath, to the frantic hum of his blood rushing through his body and he began to bob his head. 

The culmination was immediate, Damian’s frantic little sounds, the grip in his hair tightening to a point it would have been painful to a human, and he shuddered, sucking harder, quicker, and then Damian was falling apart. Falling apart _for him_ , and it was all Jon could do to drink it all down, to savor Damian’s taste in comparison to his own, to know his uniqueness as he’d never known another. 

When they came apart, when Damian sagged against the wall, nothing in the world could have stopped Jon from grasping him, pulling him closer and kissing him with all he had. 

Damian’s kiss was languid, gentle where he was usually fierce, patient where he usually strove for utter control. Even the little nips to Jon’s lower lip were kind, loving little creations instead of the hell-bent torture Damian usually provided.

It was this, Jon decided, that had been the entire point.


End file.
